


Su Sabor (The Taste of Her)

by jeannedarcprice



Series: When the Flames Settle [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/M, Illustrated Fic, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarcprice/pseuds/jeannedarcprice
Summary: The last day on the road has finally arrived for Jill and Carlos, and he wants nothing more than to keep her here with him, just like this last morning in a non-descript motel room…
Relationships: Carlos Oliveira/Jill Valentine
Series: When the Flames Settle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742605
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	Su Sabor (The Taste of Her)

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thanks to my patient translator, akanekid, for putting up with me and doing Carlos a service by allowing him to slip into Spanish.  
> Next, my to my sister [ Ludi_ling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludi_Ling/pseuds/Ludi_Ling) for beta reading my smut. It is now grammatically perfect. And finally downydatura on tumblr, for pushing me to think more about those injuries!
> 
> I like to allude to sexy times that happen in my fics, so I can just go all out and write smutty one shots later.  
> This one is based on these lines in _His Eye is on the Sparrow_ (unpublished as of yet, that's next!).
> 
> \--
> 
> “You’re in a good mood today Jill. You’re smiling every time I look at you.”  
> “Got a reason to smile when I’m looking at you!” she replied, eyes drawn to a large bag of chips that she immediately decided she was going to buy.  
> “Oh?” his eyebrows lifted suggestively. “Well I did put you in a good mood this morning, didn’t I?”  
> He knew he had, but she knew that he was still fishing for a complement. He followed her like a puppy as she got a couple of bottles of water out of the chilled cabinet. “So good you made me fall alseep!” She smiled wolfishly at him, and that was all he needed to know.
> 
> \--
> 
> Honest to god, I just wanted to write some smut, but characterisation always gets in the way, and well, it was a good opportunity to set their relationship and thoughts up for the next part. Cos there's gonna be a hell of a lot of angst regarding all of that.  
> Comments are always appreciated, even if you just smash the keyboard ;)

\- _October 11, 8:34 a.m. – Barberry Park Motel –_

For once she had had a dreamless sleep. Either that or she’d instantly forgotten what she’d dreamt about. That suited her fine, she'd rather forget it. The nights since Raccoon had been filled with monsters. Not just the ones that had hunted her as she’d tried her desperate escape, but the monsters in her mind that had stayed with her since the Mansion Incident three months previously. Waking up like this, with no nightmares to greet her or rudely bring her back into the world, was a rare luxury.

There were shadows passing across her eyes; even though they were closed she could tell something was moving. She zoned into the feeling of where she was lying, a thin mattress, sheets wrapped tightly around her – he wasn’t next to her, no feeling of his warmth there to comfort her as she awoke. She smelt coffee in the air, thick and strong, and she realised that it had been the clink of a spoon in a mug that had brought her to.

She shifted, letting out a little moan to show him that she was awake. Sometimes she liked being a tease.

“Morning, _super cop_ ,” he said jovially. She didn’t reply, but if he was looking at her, he would’ve seen the warm smile on her face.

Except he had seen it, and it had him coming over to her in an instant, lips pulling in close, a kiss that swamped her face and gave her little room to breathe. She didn’t shy away from it.

As he pulled away she dismissively pushed at his head with the palm of her hand.

“Your breath stinks!”

He laughed, thinking twice before deciding not to blow in her face. Coffee before brushing your teeth was never a good combination.

“Speak for yourself! But hey,” he got in close again, “ _I don’t care!_ ”

She didn’t protest this time, no hands used to reject him. She let him stay there, lips locked with hers, tongue warm and wet, comforting. It went a little bit further, her arm tugging on him in a request to get him on the bed with her. She felt his weight come onto it, a warm, hairy arm slip under the covers to stroke her thigh. She was still half asleep, but the touch was in no way uninvited, and she wanted to tell him that if he was willing to do all the work, he could take her.

Their lips parted, and despite herself she tried not to take in a breath. She had some pride after all.

“You should get up,” he murmured, “long road ahead today. We’ll be there tonight.”

She blinked a few times before opening her eyes fully. That comment had brought her back to the stone cold reality that this routine – waking up together, lazily travelling on the road, settling into another motel, making love frantically before sleep, only to do it all again – would finally come to a close. Bringing this distraction – this _escape_ – to a close.

Having to move onto the next step? Somehow it made everything that had happened to her more real, and the thought of it sent a chill through her.

Carlos frowned, wishing that he hadn’t said it, watching as her whole body resigned to the fact, her arms and legs clenching around the sheets like she didn’t want to let go. She turned away from him.

“Lemme sleep a bit longer…” she whined. She tried to make it sound like she was joking, but he could tell that she was upset.

He rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She felt unyielding to him, even though he was probably putting pressure on a bruise, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake by bringing it up at all.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said gently, before a yawn broke up what he wanted to say. “You’re right, we can stay here a bit longer. Maybe have a late start. We got plenty of time today.”

He felt her shoulder relax at his words, hearing a relieved sigh leave her lungs. She turned over again, almost childishly, like his words had spun her mood around as well. He felt her hand take his and guide it under the cover again, over her hip bone, over the waist band of her panties, then under it. He looked into her face; her eyes were still closed, but she looked calm and radiant, if a little tired, and a touch horny.

“How about you wake me up?” she purred. “Then we'll get moving earlier.”

There she went again. He knew now she used sex as a distraction. The sheer amount of times they were doing it made it plain to see; the fact that she always instigated it when she felt the need to forget where she was. At first, the way she went from traumatised to outright flirting had confused him. But now he understood, because he used the mask of banter to get through his trauma too. And whatever _this_ was, he’d promised her that he didn’t care, that the entanglement was _other_ to that, and that he’d be there for whatever came next.

He’d be kidding himself if he’d dismissed that he was already entangled more than he’d expected to be. But he wasn’t going to complain about the sex, because it was when she let her guard down, when she let him in closest. And he knew that part of that need for him, and her need to showcase her vulnerability, was part of what would bring her up from drowning in her grief.

“Oh, is that how this works? If only waking up for morning drills was this pleasant!” he quipped, turning off the thoughts in his head. He was rewarded with a toothy grin that lit her face up. He was glad that the memory of military service was a positive one for her.

“Especially if my _drill sergeant_ is you!”

“Hahahaha,” he huffed a gentle laugh into her mouth as he took another wet kiss. “I never thought of that. I don’t think I’d ever get to that rank. But in the bedroom I guess we can make believe!”

She chuckled from her throat, settling on her back before throwing the sheets off herself. She was in a vest and her panties, and the panties were coming off very soon. “Drill me!” she demanded.

“Baby,” he scolded. “I’m not to be ordered around! But, I’m thinking something more gentle this fine morning, slow,” he paused. “ _Satisfying_. Just for you.”

“Mmh…I like the sound of that!” she sighed in anticipation, her face, and waist, reacting to the fingers that he traced over her stomach, then her pubic bone.

There was a sort of sorrow in him, as he caressed her, because part of him wanted her to open up to him about the feelings in her heart, not to lock them away behind doors that were closed to him, places that he couldn’t unlock just by touching her. But he knew that if she did that, she’d be admitting that _this_ was more than what she made it out to be, and so for now, this was all it was.

She refused to open her eyes. His touch was electric, and he was running his fingers playfully over her waist now, in between her bruised thighs, the lightest of teasing touches in between her legs like an afterthought to the motions. Finally, he drew his hand up in between her legs with purpose, his digits filing up her body to grasp at one of her breasts. She giggled, but it sounded frustrated, like a challenge because he’d only touched her once before diverting his hand again.

She didn’t have to wait long. She felt his weight slide down the bed, her legs being brought up over one of his shoulders. He was dressed, and she felt the heavy cotton of a t-shirt against her calves. He placed full-lipped kisses up against her thigh, his fingers tracing then digging at the groove that had formed in her panties. His fingers searched for her clit, knowing where it should be, but being dumbfounded by a seam in her underwear. He couldn’t be bothered with that, so he carefully peeled back the revealing sliver of clothing, watching greedily as her skin came into view. She’d trimmed for him now, but that hadn’t come without a demand that he did for her too.

Her underwear was teased up her legs, every inch followed by a slow, full kiss, beard scratching, keeping it slow just to torture her. Once it got past her calves Jill kicked the offending item of clothing off her ankles, giggling, enjoying the feeling of his finger playing with her lips. His touch had already heightened her, a bolt right between her legs, her clit begging to be fondled. And fondle he did, so satisfyingly that she felt her wetness seep from her.

He noticed it too, drawing his finger through it and smearing it over her tip. He pulled his finger away, rolling it against his thumb before smelling it. A warm blast of air left his nostrils, heating her calve.

“You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste you…”

He wasn’t asking permission. He was _telling_ her, and she didn’t protest when he hoisted her legs off his shoulder and opened them, raising her hips to his face before greedily going straight in. The firm lick against her sent a shiver up her spine, heat straight between her legs. She seized her insides to make that part of her vulnerable to his tongue, and as he got to it enthusiastically, she pulled her vest up and over her breasts, exposing them to her own touch.

The quiet of that room was filled by her; her sighs, her shifting in the sheets, whimpers that begged against his expert mouth. He could hear her fondling herself, her hands palming over her skin, and she pinched at her own nipples, letting the feedback travel down her body to where he was, to what he was doing. He was cross-legged in front of her, supporting her hips with his arms, but one warm hand cupped her butt before tracing up her body. It distracted her, and she latched onto it with her right hand, their fingers squeezing against each other. She smiled. Here, she didn’t have to worry about anything. Here, submitting to his whims. And if his whim was to make her cry out underneath him, she would allow that too.

Carlos took a deep breath, letting his tongue dance around her entrance for a while before drawing his lips together, sucking then kissing. Yes, he was getting tired already, but he wasn’t going to give up until she got there. He hid it by letting her anchor her knees over his shoulders, examining her with a free finger, running it over her swollen lips, the folds of flesh either side, ending the touch over that hooded part of her. She squeezed his hand forcefully, hurting him, bringing pain to a bruise on his knuckle. He would’ve shaken it out if she wasn’t grasping onto it so tightly. But he realised that this was her appreciating his efforts, and so he carried on.

His dick ached, stubbornly stalled at the point at which he needed to touch it to get it any further. But that wasn’t part of his plan for this morning, so he pushed its need out of his mind, shifting himself into a position where it wouldn’t bother him as much. He gently placed her hips back down onto the mattress, switching so he could lie down on his front. She touched herself as he shuffled, humming in satisfaction, spreading her own wetness in circles as if to entice him. The sound was distracting, and it took all his willpower not to pull his joggers and pants off to join her in a more forceful way.

If she wanted him to finger her she didn’t make it obvious, and he liked the challenge. He was determined to make this work for her today, huffing out as he’d given his jaw enough respite. A callused fingertip slid down her inner thigh, and she spread herself as an invite to his mouth. All too quickly he'd forced her hand away from her, her knuckles turning white and she grasped onto his again. She squirmed, a fresh set of stuttering moans leaving her.

He kept it up, knowing it would take a while longer, running his tongue in satisfying circles, taking firm licks up in between her lips, _feeling_ the wetness as it seeped from her. He rubbed his chin against her a few times and she didn’t complain, neither did he – he had her smell all over his face now.

He felt her fingers gingerly reach out to stroke his forehead as he carried on licking her clit, and part of him wished he’d already tied up his fringe this morning. It did get in the way of the view of her. Before, when he had done this, he angled his face so he could look at her as he flicked the tip of his tongue across her, feeling like a voyeur, because she was lost to it – head slumped back, hands caressing her own breasts, sometimes travelling down to put pressure on her lower stomach. He’d asked her about that, and she’d said it put pressure on her spot from the outside, so now he new that every time she did it, she was giving herself a helping hand.

Her hand slipped off the top of his head, only to start pushing down on her stomach. A moan rose from her, drawn out, pleading, and he concentrated on what he was doing, tensing his tongue to make it more effective.

“Oh god, _yes!_ ” she pleaded in a whisper; her hips shifted, he knew it had been involuntary. He persisted, his jaw aching anew, but it didn’t matter. She was close. He knew it. The moans and the pleading were getting more frequent now.

“ _Yes, yes_. Oh god!”

Her voice rose in the silence of that room, and he wasn’t going to tell her off for disturbing the neighbours, he didn’t care if they heard how much pleasure he was giving her. She held back a few exclamations as if she’d come to the same conclusion herself, but it didn’t deter him, it only made him more determined to make her loud again. He doubled down on her clit, changing the angle slightly, moaning from his throat to tell her that he was enjoying it too. She gasped.

“Oh _fuck_!”

There it was, that point of no return. He felt her arch her back, and he wasn’t going to stop or break the rhythm. She let go of his hand finally, both arms bracing to get ready for her release. He defiantly wrapped his free arm around her hip, placing his hand just atop her pubic bone, pushing downwards.

“ _Yes_ _, yes!”_ A deafening pause. “I’m coming!” Her desperate, stuttered words were followed through by a series of gasping, pleasure-filled whines, high-pitched and piercing. She urgently propped herself up on her elbows, tensing everything, calling out to anyone who would listen.

And he listened, carrying on, imagining her coming around his cock. He’d finally managed that a few nights ago, and the feeling of her had been divine. He knew her insides were pulsing, that his tongue was causing it, and she breathed hard as her climax wound down, lowering herself back onto the pillows with heavy sighs.

Carlos smiled to himself, his jaw hurt and his tongue was tense, his lips and beard wet with _her_. He grunted satisfactorily at his achievement, going in to inspect her with his tongue again. She was glistening, her wetness mixed with his saliva overflowing onto the bedding. He chuckled, thinking dirtily about leaving that for the cleaners after they were long gone.

She sighed again, and he licked up her one last time before taking that hardened peak between his lips and sucking on it, ending each one with a kiss. She let out a long breath, and he was finished, taking one last fond kiss against that perfect part of her. One that he could give her so much pleasure with. One that made sure that he had to pay her all the attention she deserved.

“Mmm,” he moaned, deep and satisfied, licking his lips. “ _Me encanta tu sabor_ …”

She didn’t reply. These days she usually asked him what he was saying. But she’d stopped moving, and he thought that her early morning tiredness mixed with the orgasm had sent her off to sleep again. When he drew up her body to kiss her he saw that he’d been correct, and it brought a warm smile to his face.

He gazed at her, loving the look of her face when she was calm, those moments when what had happened to her didn't touch her. It was written on her face in scratches and fading bruises, but now, right now, she looked radiant. She breathed shallowly, the barest movement from her lungs expanding her chest, those beautiful, swollen breasts, nipples calming. He felt almost embarrassed at the thought, that she was so far gone because of what he'd done. But then again, it had happened to him in those nights when he’d been alone, with only his hand available to bring him comfort. It was a good feeling, that afterglow, where you felt warm inside but also exhausted, dead to the world, sweat drying at the back of your neck.

She was only human, and he smiled out a little huff as he took in the sight of her for a little longer. She was flushed, her cheeks, ears, neck and chest. He knew she was flushed below too. His lips went in for a gentle kiss against her neck, just so he could feel her heat and smell her scent. She was sticky with patchy sweat, her smell just as sweet as her taste was – the touch stirred her, her smile subtle but blinding.

“Wake up,” he teased.

“You’ve made me very happy this morning!” she murmured, receiving a peck on her lips in response. He saw out of the corner of his eye that she was rubbing herself calmingly between her legs.

“And there you were scolding me for having bad breath,” he whispered. “Well I can tell you now that your pussy probably smells bad too. Actually no, it doesn’t. It smells _delicious_ , Jill, and I can’t get enough of it!”

She missed the grin he pulled, not able to open her eyes. She felt lightheaded, tired, fulfilled – her body so overwhelmed her eyes felt heavy at the mere thought of looking at him, even though she wanted to. She slapped another hand half-heartedly against his head.

“What about you?” she sighed.

He laughed, good natured, and she finally opened her eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry about me!” he replied, an easy grin on his face. “I’ll beat it out in the shower!”

She grinned back lazily, imagining him doing just that. “Don’t try to stay quiet then because I wanna wake up to the sound of you doing it!” They chuckled. “Can I sleep for a bit longer now?”

“I thought you wanted me to wake you up!” he groaned. “So I’ve failed! But, anything you want, _super cop_. You’ve earned it!” he replied lovingly, moving off the bed to stand up. She stopped him dead with a hand grasping at the visible bulge in his joggers.

“I would,” she apologised. “But I’m so tired. Even more so now…” Her voice drifted off as she said it, her grip slackening too.

“I know you’ll make it up to me later,” he said in a low voice, patting her inner thigh before pulling away from her. He watched as she smiled a response, then gathered the sheets around her to sleep a little more.

He quietly moved back to the table in the corner, taking his coffee with him, ignoring his lazy erection as he sat back down. He’d been looking at the road map book they’d bought, the messily written address of their destination paperclipped onto the page it was on. His fingers flicked through well-used and bookmarked pages, finding where they were before plotting the rest of the journey today for the umpteenth time. He knew that Jill wanted to get there by nightfall, and that would mean a full day’s drive. His eyes scanned the route, hoping to find some places of interest along the way, maybe to delay their progress a little longer. Interstate 70 would be her friend today, and his foe. It was a straight shot, and he thought he’d take them through Indianapolis just to slow them down a bit.

His heart sank, any prior desire to ‘beat one out’ gone with it. The chair creaked as he leaned back in it, still warm coffee finally washing away the taste of her. He watched her, prone on the bed, her breasts still exposed from when she’d ridden her top up to touch herself. Unless he rigged one more night in a motel room, the next time they fell asleep would be at the safe house, and part of him wanted to keep her here, that place between her stinging nightmares and being fully awake, the time when she was most calm.

He’d left the bed long before she’d woken up, disturbed by a lucid dream that he'd managed to wake himself up from before it got too bad. His eyes had stung with the tiredness, but he had been too afraid to allow himself to slumber again. Despite trying to rouse her earlier, he understood how tired Jill was, how the nightmares gave them no rest, how having them left you exhausted before you’d even woken up. His whole body ached – bruises still tender, skin itching with healing scabs, muscles crying out every time he moved. It felt like he’d been a punching bag for every single undead resident of Raccoon, not to mention Nicholai. How he'd got the drop on him was anyone’s best guess; a punch thrown in desperation. He had been going to kill Jill, and it had taken every ounce of his strength to take a _second_ beating from him.

He’d followed him to that helipad, catching him off guard as he'd prepped for take off. He didn’t remember much of what had happened after that, apart from pain upon pain, blows connecting with wounds tallied up since that first skirmish when they’d arrived, knowing that it was an unfair fight. He was exhausted, sleep deprived, hurt all over. Nicholai looked like the last five days hadn’t touched him, like he’d had an easy ride of it. Sure he’d had injuries, he’d been surviving just like they’d all been. But Carlos was in no doubt that the bastard had weaselled his way around some tough fights - he was a competent soldier, and they’d all seen and experienced his dirty tactics in training. There had been a smugness to his face, as if he knew the outcome of this fight even before it got started. Carlos had felt a dread inside the pit of his stomach, knowing that Jill was counting on him, because if she couldn’t kill whatever that Fuck Face had become, he was the city's only hope.

He'd let that thought drive him, bring his body back for what he’d hoped was his last fight for the night, one where Jill would’ve made it onto the helipad after him and seen him with Nicholai at his feet, the vaccine in his hand triumphantly. Except it hadn’t gone like that; Carlos had been disarmed in a heartbeat, his M4 batted to the side, followed through by a punch to the face that had knocked his wits from him. A blow across his temple with the butt of his own rifle had taken him out, the last thing he remembered being his fringe, drenched with sweat, then falling sideways and into the embrace of unconsciousness, a place where he didn’t have to worry about _anything_. Not the city, the vaccine, the people left still alive – the people lost. Least not _her_ – fighting for her life against an impossible foe.

He pushed the heal of his palm against his left eye, a still tender but yellowing bruise hugging his eye socket. That had been Nicholai’s parting gift. He closed his eyes, wishing he could just fall asleep in the chair, let his eyelids hang heavily and his breaths go shallow – let his mind go blank in the sweet embrace of sleep. Maybe if he lay down next to her he would manage it, if only for another blissful hour or so. The drive today would be a tough one, and even though they shared that duty, sometimes he worried that one of them would nod off at the wheel. Maybe one more night on the road would be better for the both of them...

The safe house was Jill’s destination, her focus right now. It was the only thing keeping her sane – a goal in this mess they found themselves in. Sometimes, when they made love, he forgot all of it himself, thinking that what had happened to them couldn’t touch them anymore. But that always came to an end as they did, like the chemicals dancing through their bodies weren’t strong enough to keep the nightmares that followed at bay. At least with the safe house it meant some sense of normalcy, some support in how to rebuild, how to feel secure once again.

He didn’t feel it really, and by her reaction this morning it seemed that neither did she, and that bothered him more somehow. Because maybe deep down she knew that even in reaching the safe house she’d still feel lost. Maybe he’d ask her about it, see if she wanted to delay their arrival a little longer too.

A heavy sigh left his lips, and he flipped the map book closed, finally deciding that it was best to get her there by tonight, not to be selfish by trying to grant _himself_ one more day. Maybe everything he was worrying about would be solved by their destination. He smoothed his hands through his fringe, pulling it upwards and away from his eyes, securing it with the hair tie he’d taken to wearing around his wrist.

Carlos watched the clock tick away for a good long time, knowing that every second signalled less time with her like this. He slowly got up off the chair, passing her again and hoping that she would stir and wake up in earnest. She didn’t, and so he took himself to the bathroom to take a shower alone.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translation:**  
>  \- _Su Sabor_ / “The Taste of Her” (lit. ‘Her taste’). akanekid said that the direct translation _‘El sabor de ela'_ sounds a bit clinical, whereas the simple _‘Su Sabor'_ has nuance. Which I like!
> 
> \- _“Me encanta tu sabor…”_ / “You taste so good…” (lit. ‘I love your taste’)
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> You can find some more Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira related art on my [Tumblr blog ](https://jeannedarcprice.tumblr.com/) under tags #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #valeveira #resident evil 3 remake  
> 


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